


Kings

by Steveuschrist



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Jeremiah Valeska, Breakfast, Breathplay, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Choking, Dark Bruce Wayne, Domestic Fluff, Enthusiastic Consent, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Gentle Kissing, M/M, No Man's Land, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Jeremiah Valeska, Protective Bruce Wayne, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Season/Series 05, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Plot, Top Bruce Wayne, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 19:25:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18104891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steveuschrist/pseuds/Steveuschrist
Summary: The bridges are gone. The city is out of control. Jeremiah can’t wait for Bruce to get home.





	Kings

**Author's Note:**

> This took WAY, WAY, WAYYYYY too long to write. Holy crap. I hope it lives up to expectations.

Jeremiah barely heard what Ecco said. He tapped the table irritably, his other hand clenched into a fist. 

 

“Boss?”

 

He looked over at her, suddenly very annoyed with her presence. “ _ What?”  _

 

“You weren’t paying attention.”

 

Jeremiah inhaled sharply. “You know that I have something more..  _ pressing _ on my mind.” 

 

She looked from him to one of the curtained windows, back to him. “He didn’t run away, if that’s what-” 

 

“Don’t be  _ ridiculous _ .” Jeremiah grumbled. “If I’d been worried I would’ve followed him. Tsk, I probably should’ve followed him anyway, with all the trouble he can find.”

 

“Usually it seems like the trouble finds him, Boss.” Ecco replied, hopping off of the table. “If you don’t want to listen to me..”

 

Jeremiah shook his head, turning his attention back to her. “No, no. He’s fine, I’m sure. Tell me what I need to know.”

 

Five days. Jeremiah wasn’t sure how he was still alive. He’d been prepared for three days, four if things got ugly- but it was now day seven. Jeremiah was prepared to run out into the other zones with just a handgun if necessary. 

 

Waking up every morning alone. No one to steal kisses from. No wandering hands squeezing his hips and promising that they’d spend some time alone together later. No one to dispel any hidden worries he had tucked away. 

 

He scratched another mark on to the wall. What were they even doing there? He heard rumors of the military intervening, finding their way into the city. That’s why Bruce had set out in the first place. 

 

_ “You can’t go alone. You’ll get yourself killed.” _

 

_ “I have your armor and weapons. I can fight.” _

 

_ “They have guns and tanks and it’s the  _ military _!”  _

 

_ “Just three days. Maybe four. I’ll scout it out, steal some supplies.”  _

 

What would he do if Bruce was captured? What if they held him captive? They wouldn’t kill him, but they’d use him against Jeremiah. As long as he knew Bruce was unharmed he would have no reason to run in, Bruce could escape before they even knew what happened. 

 

Unless the government was coming in and  _ they  _ captured Bruce. Jeremiah paused, running his gloved hand over the marks on the wall. They would have no issues with torturing Bruce if it meant bringing him out, and he would do so gladly. He knew that Bruce could take some punishment, but he wasn’t exactly keen on Bruce getting hurt.

 

He adjusted his suit. He’d put it on poorly that morning, and he mentally chastised himself for doing so. He was so entirely out of sorts without Bruce with him. He straightened his tie after pulling it a bit tighter. For just a moment he pressed his fingers around his own throat and closed his eyes, and he could almost feel that they were Bruce’s, marking him, claiming him. He slipped his hand down after that moment, shaking his head to himself. No, he had work to do. He couldn’t indulge, that was usually saved for right before he fell asleep. 

 

***

 

“Ecco, can I tell you something?” 

 

The blond looked over at him, eyes wide. “Boss?”

 

He sighed softly, reclining in his seat, well,  _ Bruce’s  _ seat. He heard the sounds of his people working on the tunnel, chipping away to escape the city. “The rumors about people coming into the city.. if they capture us.. I haven’t thought that far ahead, hell, I’ve been improvising since Bruce was sprayed. I didn’t know it would work.” 

 

“Do you wish it didn’t?” She asked him, playing with her mask. 

 

“I don’t know.” Jeremiah replied, drifting off. “I had so little confidence in Scarecrow’s recipe that I was certain it would fail.. I had an entire plan for that turn of events. If the military finds us.. I’m not going to let them hold Bruce accountable for what’s happened.”

 

“Boss..”

 

“I’m not letting him get locked away!” Jeremiah said sharply, sitting up and looking over at her. “I’m not letting him get hurt.”

 

“He’s done a lot of things, Boss. Once they find out that he’s the vigilante that’s been running around the city, that’s probably prison. Even if he hadn’t been sprayed.”

 

“He’s the strongest out of all of us, he  _ can’t  _ go to prison.” Jeremiah replied. Suddenly he was imagining Bruce locked in an interrogation room, staying silent and being tortured. Bruised and bloodied, coughing up blood. Or maybe they would just starve him to get him to talk.

 

When was the last time Bruce had eaten? Jeremiah blinked hard. How much food had he set out with? Surely not enough for over a week. Which meant that Bruce was likely not working at full capacity. Which meant that his chances of getting caught were increased. 

 

“Ecco, where’s Baiser?” He stood, glancing around the dark room that they were situated in. 

 

She stood as well, looking from him to various parts of the room. “Boss, I’m all for going in for an ambush, but I know what you’re thinking. You can’t go out alone!”

 

“That’s exactly what I said to Bruce and he’s been gone for over a week!” Jeremiah snapped back. “I’m sure I can get into the green zone and find him..” He trailed off, losing his sudden confidence. 

 

“You’re not meant for sneaking around.” Ecco said quickly. “You’re meant for making grand entrances and master plans. That’s why you and him work so well together. And if you go out there and die you know how upset it’ll make him!” 

 

“He might be hurt somewhere. I can’t just.. I have to look for him!” Jeremiah began to search the room, and he froze when he heard distant gunfire. “That might be him!”

 

“The armor can protect him.” Ecco came over to Jeremiah. “And.. really.. do we even need him to carry out our plans?”

 

The gunfire stopped. The people in the tunnel seemed to have stopped working, maybe they heard what Ecco said, or maybe it was chance. Jeremiah looked up from where he’d been looking for Baiser, eyes beginning to burn into Ecco. “ _ What? _ ”

 

Ecco’s eyes went wide, and she swallowed thickly, clearly realizing her mistake. “Well, I- I just mean that-” 

 

Jeremiah stepped towards her, accenting each word as he spoke. “You.. just… mean…  _ what _ ?” 

 

“Well you’re the genius behind it all.. Bruce does even less than I do..” She giggled nervously, eyes unblinking. “For all we know.. he did run away-” 

 

Suddenly he reached out, wrapping his hand around her throat and squeezing. She made a small noise of surprise before it was cut off due to lack of air supply. He squeezed harder. He moved closer again, staring down at her. “I should  _ rip. Out. Your. Spine. _ ” 

 

Her hands scrambled aT his, trying to relieve the pressure. He could keep squeezing and she’d never insult his Bruce ever again. He could find Baiser, spray her brains across the wall, and use her blood to write a  ‘welcome home’ message to Bruce.

 

He dropped her carelessly, getting a better idea. She hit the floor and began to gasp for air, rubbing her throat as she coughed. “I’ll let Bruce decide what to do with you. You did insult him, after all.” He shook his head, turning to walk off to carry out other matters. “Him dealing with you? That’s  _ mercy _ .” 

 

***

 

Bruce pressed his back up against the wall, taking a moment to breathe. He wasn’t sure how long he had run for. He could’ve sworn that he memorized the map of the city- the layout of who owned what and how big their territories were. Clearly the map was wrong, he’d accidentally stepped into Freeze’s territory where a free street should’ve been. 

 

He glanced around the building, pulling back once he heard footsteps approaching. He took another breath before heading down the street, hugging the building. He reached a fire escape. 

 

A shot rang out and he practically heard it whizz by his ear. “Hey!”

 

_ Shit _ . Bruce jumped up and pulled down the fire escape, then jumped up, pulling himself to the first level. He heard more shots and shouting as he pulled up the first  ladder, then began to make his way up the rest of the building. He rolled onto the roof, stopping his movements entirely.

 

His breathing began to steady as he stared up at the sky. It was a gray blanket, the sun barely shining through and setting a dim filter over everything. He stood up, keeping himself low to the roof as he went across it. 

 

He wondered where Jeremiah was. What was he doing? Bruce had gotten held up for an entire day now, he might be worried about him. He was reluctant to let Bruce go in the first place, and now Bruce was going to be even later than he’d said he would be. 

 

He assessed as to where he was, then ran, and took a leap from one roof to the other. He landed easily, rolling to offset the impact. He was so close to Haven. Just a few more roofs and he could slip inside. No fights, no mess. He stood again to run across the roof, but he suddenly stopped when he saw something. 

 

On the next roof over, he could clearly see a man. Tall, dark hair, green-

 

_ Ed?  _

 

There was no mistaking it, it was Ed Nygma. He was on the corner of the roof farthest from Bruce, messing with something that Bruce couldn’t see. Bruce began to stalk forward, trying to get a look at what Ed was doing. Suddenly Ed pulled up something into his arms, and Bruce’s eyes widened. He was very clearly holding an RPG, and was in the process of loading it. 

 

Bruce took that moment to hide behind a box-like structure on the roof. What the hell was Ed doing? How’d he get an RPG? Bruce looked beyond Ed, realizing that the large building down the street was exactly the place he’d been looking for. He could see people moving inside, milling about. He could easily get around Ed, jump in through a window, no one would know.

 

He heard talking- it was more like shouting- down on the street farther ahead, right in front of Haven. He heard shots, and he wondered if an assault on Haven was being attempted. It could give him the perfect cover, everyone would be worried about what was happening outside, not inside. The shots stopped. 

 

He looked back over to Ed, who was now raising the RPG, and, to Bruce’s dismay, was aiming it at Haven. His eyes widened. Wait, Ed was a man of wit and science, not weapons and explosions. Surely he wasn’t going to- 

 

Ed fired the weapon. A loud boom rang out, and suddenly the building that Bruce was aiming for went up in flames. The force of the explosion hit Bruce as the windows blew out, and he saw some people near the windows suddenly were engulfed in flames. All that supplies. Food, water, ammunition, guns. What was Ed thinking? It wasn’t like him to make such a spectacle, such a display of grandeur. 

 

Ed lowered the weapon, seemingly satisfied with his work. Shouts were coming from the same street, probably panic and terror. Ed turned and looked around, causing Bruce to hide again. He was able to catch Ed pulling out a pen and jotting something down on his hand. 

 

This was No Man’s Land. Those supplies practically had Bruce’s name written on them. He  _ owned  _ the city. He suddenly surged out from his hiding place, sprinting across the rooftop and jumping onto Ed’s. “Nygma!”

 

The man in green didn’t even seem to hear him. Ed had an RPG. The helicopter that Bruce had called in to deliver supplies to him had been taken down by one. Ed blew up supplies meant for Bruce  _ twice _ . 

 

Bruce reached for one of his knives. Right in Ed’s pale forehead. Right beneath that awful head of hair he was sporting. Quick and easy-

 

No. No, he would make him suffer. He would save Ed for later. Ed clearly saw him, but made no moves to attack. 

 

Bruce glanced at Haven. He would have to wait hours for the fires to go out. He decided that he should camp out on a rooftop a few streets over instead. He could give time for the fires to go down. Everyone was likely in a panic and would be until the full body count was taken. He would have to wait for the fires to die down and for most of the people to be out of the building. 

 

He wasn’t sure how many people exactly were in Haven. A couple hundred for sure. How many had died? That took care of a good part of the supply issue, at least. But if more supplies were destroyed in the explosion.. 

 

Bruce quickly took off to another roof, and now he could see the place where the shots he’d heard earlier came from. Smoke plumes from the tall building, feeling the street, but as it moved along with the breeze he could make out a few distinct figures. 

 

Jim was standing, staring at the ruined building. Officers were scattered across the area. Penguin was slowly standing up from the ground, and Bruce also saw who he knew to be Penguin’s men behind him. Barbara was there, behind Penguin. She was glancing between him and the building, pointing a gun at him with a shaky hand. He clearly didn’t notice, staring at the building as well. After a few more seconds she lowered her gun then ran off, disappearing into the smoke. 

 

Bruce saw a few survivors begin to run out, but he didn’t stay to see any more. He was tired from the jumps he’d made, glad that the streets were mostly one way. He made it across a few more rooftops, as far as he could go without losing sight of Haven. 

 

He settled down on the roof. His armor wasn’t cumbersome. It was keeping him warm. It reminded him of Jeremiah. It reminded him of where he belonged. The material was sturdy, but thin and flexible. It was bullet and blade proof as far as Bruce could tell, and it was somehow lightweight. Jeremiah had worked on it day and night. Bruce had to literally drag him away from his work on more than one occasion. 

 

He stared up at the sky, steadying his breathing. He knew that the sun would start to set soon, so he pulled out some rations from one of his many pouches. It was supposed to be dried up potato or something. He broke off a small portion and tucked the rest away, nibbling on what would be his dinner for the night. He had to start spacing out the rations he’d taken with him. The extra day from travel, and now the extra day waiting for Haven to die down. He was supposed to have been back already.

 

_ “I can’t risk you going out like that.” _

 

_ “We need supplies. The diggers need more food.”  _

 

_ “They just need to-”  _

 

_ “If you say ‘dig a little deeper’ one more time I swear I’ll.. never mind, you’d enjoy it.”  _

 

_ “Darling, just.. You can’t go out alone. You belong here with  _ me _.” _

 

_ “I do, I know I do, but we need supplies. Haven is the perfect place.”  _

 

Bruce closed his eyes. It was odd, ever since he was sprayed he’d slept amazingly well. It part he knew it was due to how it freed him. He didn’t stay up late at night wondering about who could and couldn’t be saved anymore. The physical strain of days of travel easily brought him sleep, the scent of smoke and sound of shouts filling his mind before he drifted off. 

 

***

 

Jeremiah hugged Bruce’s pillow each night that he was gone. The first and second night, he’d reached for it and pulled it close, closing his eyes as he pretend it was Bruce. He even tried to speak to it like it was Bruce. They’d thought about using radios to keep in touch, but it was too risky, someone could track the signals or even get on the same frequency if they were smart enough. 

 

The third night he’d pulled it close, holding it especially tight. He giggled into it, even nuzzling it. “Bruce.. Darling.. you’re almost home..”

 

But Bruce didn’t come home that day, so that night Jeremiah squeezed the pillow even tighter. “No, no, you’re fine, Bruce. The supplies is slowing you down.. Maybe you got into a fight.. You’ll be home tomorrow.” 

 

The worst part was that Jeremiah wanted Bruce to be there for the big event. He wanted Bruce to be the one to pull out the final brick, step through the hole first. 

 

Ecco had recovered from their earlier encounter. She was with the diggers in the tunnel, urging them on, yelling at them to step it up. They’d been working for a couple of hours, now going into the night, and just when Jeremiah was going to turn in, he heard yells coming from the tunnel. Ecco popped up from the tunnel.  

 

“ _ Mr. J!  _ We hit the jackpot!” 

 

Jeremiah shot up from Bruce’s chair, running down to the tunnel. His face lit up. “You’re sure?” 

 

“They just shouted up to me, they’re about to break through!” She grinned. “Come on!” 

 

Jeremiah followed her down the tunnel. It was close to two miles, and it got smaller and smaller with each step that they took. Going under the river was their best option- it was really the only option. “I expect Wayne Manor’s basement to be there, waiting for us.” 

 

“I’ll wring the neck of whoever called up to me if we still have a few feet to go.” Ecco replied, humming to herself. “What’s the next step?”

 

“Once we’re on the other side of the river, we station in Bruce’s home. Set up camp there and bring back all of our supplies. Then we blow the tunnel so no one can follow us.” Jeremiah studied his glove as the tunnel evened out. “If a few people get caught in the blast? Not my problem.” 

 

“What if Bruce doesn’t make it back here in time?” Ecco asked, pulling on one of her buns. 

 

Jeremiah popped her upside the head. “What is up with you today? You really think I’d even think about leaving him behind?” 

 

She let out a noise of pain. “If he’s already dead then it doesn’t matter! And if he’s injured then he’ll just slow us down.” 

 

He rolled his eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.” 

 

“Why do you even like him so much?”

 

He whipped out one of his knives and grabbed Ecco, throwing his against the wall of the tunnel. He shot over to her, knife across her throat. His heart pounded in his ears, he was breathing rapidly as he pressed against her. He practically spat through his teeth at her. “Are you implying that Bruce is someone that  _ shouldn’t  _ be liked by me?”

 

“I-I just wanna know why you love him  _ so _ much, Boss!” Ecco replied, her voice soft and rising in pitch. “I guess it was a ‘love at first sight’ moment or something-”

 

“It  _ was _ . The way he  _ looked  _ at me, the way he  _ spoke  _ to me, it was like he actually considered me to be a person- and he  _ does _ .” Jeremiah pressed the knife in slightly, and it barely cut through the first few layers of Ecco’s skin. “He.. he is  _ precious _ . A treasure that I will not give up easily. He completes me, Ecco. Your loyalty is strong, your skills are important, but I could never lie and say that I love you.” He pulled away from her, putting his knife away nonchalantly. “My heart belongs to him. Now, are we finishing this tunnel, or what? Bruce  _ should’ve  _ been here, the least I can do is start fixing the manor up for his return.”

 

Ecco pulled out a rolled of gauze and tape, quickly fixing up her neck. “Of course, Mr. J.” 

 

They continued on their way, a thought striking Jeremiah. He would save it for later, after things died down, after Bruce returned. They came upon the site where all the diggers were still chipping away, and from the brick Jeremiah knew that they were almost finished. 

 

“Right, you, you, you, and you, stay behind!” He pointed to the beefier diggers. “The rest of you, make your way back to our base with Ecco, start bringing back all of our supplies. Gather everyone down there that’s not working right now. I don’t care if they’re sleeping, shitting, or dying, everyone needs to be on this operation!” He clapped his hands twice. “Chop chop!”

 

The workers split off with Ecco, turning back down the tunnel. Jeremiah even picked up an axe himself and began to chip away at the clay and rock, trying to pry the first bricks free. He suddenly felt adrenaline pulse throughout his system. He would be able to see where Bruce grew up, where he lived. They would have electricity and plumbing that consistently worked, luxury foods, a real bed to sleep in together. That last thought truly got his blood pumping. He would be able to fall into bed with Bruce soon enough, on a soft surface that didn’t creak with every slight shift or groan with the threat of giving out. 

 

He and the diggers began to strike close to the same weak point, clay flying off as the point was struck again and again. After the largest of all of them took a rather large swing, his axe broke through. They all began to chicle out that section, and Jeremiah reached out, wiggling the brick. It came out of the wall and he began to laugh with pure joy. 

 

***

 

Bruce could technically not drink for three days and still live. He didn’t want to, but he could if he needed to. He had woken up thirsty, and instinctively downed far too much water than he should have. He sat up all the way, tossing his bottle back into the pouch on his back. He’d packed light to make sure nothing was wasted, and to make sure that he wasn’t slowed down by extra weight. 

 

He glanced over at Haven. The fires had died down, and after taking a few steps forward, he saw people running about. He’d slept through the whole night, it wasn’t noon but the sun had been in the sky for a few hours. 

 

He mapped out a route. He could jump to four rooftops, climb to the roof of another, and land on Haven’s roof. He gathered himself before running and leaping. The gap was large and he barely made it, basically jumping at the lip of the roof instead of on to the roof. He pulled himself up, huffing softly. His strength and speed were dwindling, and he still had to make the return journey. 

 

Bruce leapt again, rolling once he hit the roof. He had to keep moving, he had to keep going. Another jump and he landed on the fire escape then pulled himself up. He looked down at Haven, seeing uniforms. They weren’t the ones he was used to seeing around the city. Those guys were carrying large cases of something- weapons, Bruce figured. He took off again, and this time once he reached the next roof, he stopped, rolling and lying down. 

 

The military had come- likely the army. Bruce closed his eyes. The government had finally decided to take action, finally decided to bring in help. No, maybe not help. This was the government, it had been over three months. This was a plan, maybe an attack? Maybe they weren’t even American soldiers, it could be a trick from another country. 

 

Bruce shot up and jumped to the next building. He ran up the fire escape to get to the roof, now right next to Haven. He had to be careful now, anyone outside of Haven could easily see him jumping around like an idiot in the middle of the day. He stuck low to the ground, and quickly spotted a ventilation system. He peeked over the edge of roof, and the part of Haven that had been blown up by the RPG stood out. 

 

He looked over, quickly seeing part of the roof that would allow him to slide down into Haven. The debris had mostly settled, the smoke had cleared. He took a breath as he began to back up. He could die if he missed this jump. The roof might give in and he might fall to the street below. The floor itself might be unstable and he might fall to the next floor. 

 

_ “I’ve heard some civilians have a name for you.” _

 

_ “I’ve only been seen by a handful of people. I guess word really spreads fast.”  _

 

_ “Batman. They’re calling you Batman. Large black object that moves quickly at night.. a whisper in the wind.” _

 

_ “I’m afraid of bats, you know.”  _

 

_ “Darling, I’m not saying that bats are terrifying, but when you’ve got the armor on, when I see you take someone out… I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my heart skip a beat.” _

 

_ “That’s probably just from the blood rushing to your other head. I… I like the name, though.”  _

 

_ “If you like it then I like it.”  _

 

Bruce adjusted his mask, then dashed forward. He leapt off of the roof, remembering the first time Jeremiah had caught him going out at night and patrolling their territory. 

 

_ “You are  _ not  _ jumping across that gap, you’ll never make it! Darling-  _ Darling _! Get down here this instant so I can hold you and make sure that you’re  _ actually  _ alive!”  _

 

He landed directly on the floor of the impact site, not caring to deduce what room had been hit. He just had to go loot supplies. Anything and everything, quick and easy. He could be home before sundown tomorrow. 

 

He pressed his back up against the wall the door was on, listening for steps or voices. He heard none, but he drew a knife and held it at the ready as he exited the room. He paused, glancing down the empty hall. He made his way down, stopping as the hallway turned. He heard voices below him. They’d evacuated that floor if there were any survivors left. Bruce turned, and was met with a staircase than reached down to the bottom floor. This was the fastest way, the easiest way. 

 

He put his knife away to free his hand, then launched himself over the railing, and suddenly he was plummeting downward. He rolled again, instantly standing up. Then he heard a gun cock behind him. 

 

“Don’t move.”

 

Oh,  _ great _ . 

 

Bruce took a breath, considering his options. He would have to reach for his knife or a gun. The man behind the gun might know about the armor’s strength, but he could just turn Bruce around, rip off his mask, and knock him out. Bruce slowly raised his arms. He couldn’t bother fighting. He was weak already, fighting would drain more and energy and slow him down. He didn’t want to run the risk of being injured.

 

He felt the hood being pulled off of his head. “Wise choice, Master B. Turn ‘round, now.”

 

Bruce slowly turned, looking over at Alfred with a blank face. “Mr. Pennyworth.”

 

Alfred shifted as he pulled off Bruce’s mask, clearly trying to figure out what to say. “Dear God, he’s got you brainwashed, hasn’t he..?” 

 

“You guys would assume that, wouldn’t you?” Bruce deadpanned. “Like keeping me locked up in a manor for six years wasn’t brainwashing..” 

 

A silence fell between them, and Alfred finally spoke again. “Right, well, down the hall to your right, you’ll come to the main entrance. I’ll get Jim ASAP.” 

 

Bruce began to slowly walk, still holding up his arms. He glanced around as they walked, looking for supplies. “How many?”

 

Bruce was sure that Alfred shook his head. “Too many. That was you, wasn’t it?” 

 

“Do I look like I have an RPG on me?” Bruce snapped. “It was Nygma. I can tell you everything that I know if you agree to let me go. I saw the whole thing.”

 

“...Just keep walking, mate.” 

 

The two soon came to a large room full of people. Bruce saw cans of food and water in a corner, survivors were staring at them. Bruce looked across the crowd, seeing uniforms of blue and camouflage. 

 

“It’s that vigilante- B-Batman!”

 

Bruce caught the eye of the person who’d called out, and he grinned. “What gave it away? My good looks, right?” A wave of whispers fell over the people. All the uniforms paused their movements. 

 

“Get Gordon back here!” Alfred called out. 

 

“The hell’s happenin’ out here?” Bruce’s eyes wandered up the metal steps that led to another floor, and his eyes fell upon a familiar face. 

 

“Detective.”

 

“Kid? The hell’ve you been up to?” Harvey asked, beard overly scruffy. “Come on, please tell me that you’re here-”

 

“Here to come crawling back? Here to say ‘Surprise! I was just spying for you guys!’? Here to say ‘Just kidding, the spray didn’t work!’?” Bruce laughed softly. “You  _ wish _ .”

 

Harvey scrubbed his hand over his face. “God, this is so fucked up..”

 

Bruce rolled his shoulders, looking around almost nonchalantly. “I know who blew this place up.” A few people gasped, even a few more guns were suddenly pointed at Bruce. 

“Bruce.. Bruce, come on, you know I’m not a fan of these games.” Harvey replied. 

 

“I tell you everything I know and you let me go.” Bruce replied. “Who did it, with what, everything that I know.” 

Harvey adjusted his hat, then turned away. “Bring him down to the station for interrogation. Jim’ll be rushin’ back here any second once this reaches him.” 

 

“Interrogation? We should  _ kill  _ him!!” Someone from the crowd shouted. “He’s already got over ten kills that we know of, possibly more. Hell,  _ he  _ probably did this!” 

 

“Oi, you don’t know what you’re talking about!” Alfred called out, and Bruce felt the light tap of his gun on his armor. “Come on, to the station.” 

 

“There must be a number.” Bruce said as they approached the station. “More than one, even. Deaths and injuries. People missing-”

 

“Over two dozen missing, 49 injured.. 311 killed.” Alfred trailed off. “Bruce, I can’t protect you anymore. The gas has made you do things that-” 

 

“I don’t  _ need  _ protection.” Bruce replied. “What I’ve done I’ve done. But this was senseless killing. Not me. Not Jeremiah.” 

 

“..Right, then.”

 

Bruce went to pull open the door to the station, but Alfred grabbed it instead. Maybe it was habit, maybe he didn’t want Bruce to do anything with his hands. Bruce stepped over the threshold. The station used to give him hope, make him happy. Now he wasn’t sure. 

 

Alfred stopped him at a desk. “I have to search you, unless you want to give up all your weapons yourself.” 

 

Bruce dug into pouches. First were his smoke grenades, he placed them on the desk. Then came his batarangs and stunners, which got an eyebrow raise out of Alfred. He unclipped his pouch from his back. “Just water and food in here.” He dumped the contents out anyway, a small handgun falling out next to his rations and water. “Ok, aside from that.” 

 

“How many people have you killed?” Alfred asked as Bruce patted himself down, putting two more guns on the desk. 

 

“You really want to know?” Bruce replied, reaching for the gun on his thigh and slowly placing that one down. 

 

“I do.. God, how many guns do you have?” 

 

“Only those ones on me right now.” A large knife accompanied the other weapons. “And.. 37.” A handful of throwing knives joined the rest. “That’s all.” 

 

He didn’t need Alfred’s directions to point him down to the interrogation room. He stepped inside, smiling to himself as he sat down. Alfred pulled out handcuffs and cuffed him to the table. “What’s so funny?”

 

“The last time I was in this room.. it was one of the last moments I was my old self.” He glanced at Alfred, then at the mirror. “I remember a year earlier when you basically arrested me, then you let me escape and you followed me to Ra’s.”

 

“You killed him and hated yourself for it.” Alfred replied matter-of-factly. “Threw yourself at girls and clubs and alcohol. I almost lost you multiple times.” 

 

“Guess it was all in vain anyway.” Bruce replied. “I killed my old self, got stronger. Realized the truth about killing.”

 

“You hated guns.”

 

“Until I realized my true potential.” 

 

Alfred sat across from him, and Bruce easily remembered that night from three years ago. “Bruce, who’d you see on the roof?”

 

“I told you, if you agree to let me go then I’ll tell you everything I know.” Bruce replied. “If you guys keep me here then.. you’re not exactly better than the rest of them, are you?” 

 

“That’s not up to me or Gordon. Now that the army has stepped in, they’re attempting to take over the operation. I dunno if they’re going to destroy the city or save it.” Alfred replied. “And.. I won’t hurt you. I don’t think Jim will, either, but we are obligated to hold you as.. as-”

 

“A prisoner.” Bruce finished, shaking his head. “War is  so ugly.”

 

“Then why’d you and Jeremiah start one?” Alfred asked, voice raising in volume. “You damn well knew that blowing those bridges would start one!” 

 

“Blowing the bridges wasn’t my decision.” Bruce said evenly. “If it had been up to me I would’ve blown the city off of the damn  _ map _ . Jeremiah had another plan, but plans change.” 

 

“You’ve killed 37 innocent people. Doesn’t matter if the bridges was your doing, you’ve taken advantage and gone on a killing spree.” Alfred replied. “There’s a high price on your head.” 

 

Bruce laughed gently at the killing spree comment. “A high price? Let them come! And the military attempting to torture me to get answers?” 

 

The vigilante shrugged. “I’d like to see them try.” 

 

***

 

Jeremiah spun around in the hallway. Now this,  _ this  _ was a home! He’d merely taken a glance at the basement-like room they’d come into from the tunnel before dashing up the stairs and going to the rest of the house. 

 

There were plenty of pieces of art in the halls, paintings and vases from different centuries and artists. Bruce probably knew everything about all of them, or hardly any of their history. Jeremiah took no time to find the stairs to the second floor and he practically tripped as he went up them. 

 

He carefully made his way down the hall, trying to figure out which room was Bruce’s. He supposed he wouldn’t know until he opened the doors all the way, but there was something about trying to guess the right one that made his heart skip a beat. He began to push open each door in the hall in turn. 

 

Nope, nope, nope, all empty. The next door was a hall bathroom. The door after that was a closet. Jeremiah opened more and more doors until finally  _ finally  _ he reached the room he was looking for. He pulled open the door and a chill washed over him as cool air left the room.

 

The room was dark with a few pieces of furniture in it. Jeremiah immediately went over to the bed and laid down in the middle, exhaling deeply as he looked up at the ceiling. He turned on his side, careful of his lipstick, and inhaled again. Yes… this was his darling’s room.  _ Their new room _ . He giggled, covering his mouth as it grew louder. 

 

He pushed himself up from the bed. He knew where he was going now, where he would need to go. He could enjoy the bed later with Bruce in it. 

 

He came back into the study, his excitement dying down enough for him to remember what Bruce had told them one day while working on the bombs. His smile faded and he narrowed his eyes, growling. 

 

“This is where Jerome rudely broke in and kidnapped Bruce..” He grumbled. “He came in and took him to kill him in some grand display.. what a  _ waste _ . As if Bruce could die by the hand of someone like him..”

 

He shook his head, now filled with the thoughts of his idiotic brother. He flopped down on the couch, reclining and smiling to himself. “Well,  _ brother _ , look who’s victorious  _ now _ .”

 

His stomach suddenly let out a loud grumble, and he sighed. There had to be good food around here, it was Bruce’s house! He rose, and after taking a swipe of the mantle with his gloved hand, which came back dusty, he decided the kitchen would be his next stop. 

 

He pushed open the door and stepped inside, spinning around again. He began to dive into the shelves and fridge, greeted with various foods, some of which had yet to go bad. He took inventory, before nodding to himself. He would make Bruce a nice meal once he returned.

 

Now, what else could he explore? 

 

***

 

Bruce nodded silently to the captain when he entered the interrogation room. He stood by the door for a moment, eyeing Bruce’s armor. “You made that?”

 

“I had some input, but someone very close to me insisted that they build it for me.” Bruce replied. 

 

“How many hours did Jeremiah spend on it?”

 

“Too many. He wanted everything absolutely perfect. You don’t know how many times I got after him for losing sleep over it.” Bruce looked Jim up and down. “Alfred told me the numbers from what happened.” 

 

Jim slowly sat across from him. He looked older than Bruce remembered, but it had only been three months since he’d last seen him. “You want us to let you go if you tell us what you saw.” 

 

“This is stupid, Jim.” Bruce said. “Prisoners.. I’m not going to be part of all this fighting. Blowing the bridges didn’t start all this.”

 

“The hell are you talking about? Of course it did.” Jim replied, his voice raising. 

 

“No. This fight started over six years.” Bruce looked from his hands to Jim. “Ever since that night, the deaths of my parents-”

 

“This isn’t about you, Bruce-” 

 

“It  _ isn’t  _ about me!” Bruce suddenly snapped, slamming his hands on the table, rattling the handcuffs and Jim. “That night  _ isn’t  _ about me! This whole thing isn’t about  _ me _ !” He stood, staring daggers at Jim. “I’m not the scared little kid you found in the alley, Gordon! I killed and buried him, just like how I should have buried this city!”

 

The room was dead silent. Bruce sat back down after a few seconds, not breaking eye contact with Jim. After a handful of moments, Jim spoke softly. “I’m morally obligated to hold you here, you know that. Gotham is in a state of emergency, the army is here to reconnect us with the mainland.”

 

“You actually trust the government?” Bruce asked, brow raising. “You trust them over me?”

 

Jim stood and went over to the door, then knocked twice. “I have to.” The door swung open and two officers stood there. “Please escort Mr. Wayne to a holding cell.” 

 

Bruce decided to not feign panic. He would remain calm and silent. He was in control, Jim just didn’t know it yet. He stood when the officers came over, and slowly left the room with them behind him. As he exited the hallway, he took a glance to his left, only to see Alfred there. He looked at the desk where his weapons had been- now they were gone. 

 

They uncuffed him then pushed him into a cell. He sat down, and right as the officers were walking away he called out. “You’ll have to feed me, you know. You’re just making me another person you’ll have to take care of.” 

 

Jim came into Bruce’s view, he was walking to the center of the station. “Hope you like peaches.” 

 

A group of soldier suddenly entered the station, and Bruce moved closer, trying to hear their conversation with Jim. 

 

“...says he knows who did this..”

 

“Don’t let him go! He’s got a trail of bodies following him-” 

 

“We’ll let Dorrance decide that.”

 

“I dunno how long I can keep him here. Every survivor wants him dead, if they find out that he’s being held here they’ll come in with everything they’ve got and kill him.” 

 

“Don’t let this info leak out, Dorrance is on his way now-”

 

Heavy footsteps were suddenly heard in the entrance to the station, and the group in the middle turned their heads to the sound. The entire station was silent as someone came around the corner. 

 

A little taller than Jim, slightly bigger than him. Dark facial hair that matched his short haircut. Bruce knew he had to be a military man, camouflage and weapons strapped to him aside. 

 

“Ah, Jim! Did you start the interrogation?” He had a slight accent at the corners of his words. 

 

“Finished, for now.” Jim replied softly. “I.. felt like we needed to come to an agreement.”

 

“This is war, Jim. War involves prisoners.” Dorrance replied. “But if the information he gives us is any good..” 

 

The two men began to whisper, and now Bruce had to think. If he told them the truth, nothing would come to bite him later. He and Ed had no ties, nothing bad would happen to him. If he lied, then he could send them on a wild chase, tracking down a fake lead. The only problem was, these were army guys, they probably could just look at someone’s face and know they were lying. Bruce had gotten good at that, hiding the little ticks, but he was out a practice, and these guys were professionals. 

 

“Wayne!” 

 

Bruce slowly looked over to the men again. He was pressed up against the bars of the cell, trying to listen in and trying to see if there was anything he could use to escape. 

 

Suddenly Dorrance was pulling something up, and pointed it at Bruce. He had barely even time to let out a soft gasp before he dodged at the shot rang out. 

 

“EDUARDO, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” Bruce heard Jim shout, but he was looking the entire opposite direction, having turned his body away. Some may have thought it was to expose the harder parts of his armor, but in truth, he knew where the shot would land. The gun was aimed directly at his exposed face, not at his body. He’d turned to get out of the way, and after a moment of standing there he let out a yell, clutching his cheek with his hand. 

 

The bullet had grazed off his skin, taking off a few layers of skin on his cheek off in a perfectly straight line. He was bleeding, and he turned back to the Captain and the soldiers. 

 

“Oh, Jim, he’s a notorious killer. I knew he’d be able to dodge a simple bullet!” Eduardo replied, holstering his weapon. 

 

“He’s in  _ my  _ custody, you can’t just shoot my-!”

 

“Your what, Jim? He is a prisoner after all.” Eduardo replied. “You said the people want him dead anyway-” 

 

“He has information about what happened yesterday!”

 

Bruce clutched his cheek, blood dripping down his face. He wouldn’t bleed out, he’d be fine, he wasn’t worried about that. He slapped his hands against the bars of the cell, a hardship rattling sound echoing through the room. “ _ You _ .” 

 

Eduardo looked over at him, taking a few steps forward. “We’ll get you cleaned up, just a scratch, you’ll be fine-” 

 

Bruce glanced from Eduardo to his hand, which was now spotted with blood. He brought his fingers up to his lips and licked them, pretending to be interested in their taste. He knew exactly what his blood tasted like, it was engraved into his mind. “Eduardo Dorrance, huh?”

 

The military man nodded once, and Bruce grinned at him. “You know, I could break out of here right now.. dismember everyone in this place and leave you for last.. then cut you slowly, slowly, until you bled and bled and bled. And I would laugh, and you know why? Because it’s just a bunch of tiny, tiny little  _ scratches.”  _

 

The entire room was staring at him, and his grin dropped entirely as he turned away from the group. “No, no, no.. I’ll let you  _ really _ suffer.. You see, once I return to Jeremiah, one of the first things he’ll ask is about this scar on my face, and I’ll have to tell him that Eduardo Dorrance shot me while I was being held captive! And that.. oh, Jeremiah is not a fan of people who mess with his dark prince, no..” He clicked his tongue a few times, then looked back at the group. “He’ll end with you, but start with everyone else. Slowly, painfully.. the king will  _ slaughter _ all of his people.” 

 

“Is that a threat?” Eduardo asked. 

 

“A promise… if you don’t let me go, that is.”

 

Eduardo approached the cell. “Tell me what you know.”

 

“Get me out of here first, then we talk.” Bruce shot back. “And I’m not going to run, someone took all of my equipment and hid it. If I bolt, you’ll have plenty of time to shoot or handcuff me once I start looking for my gear.” 

 

Eduardo seemed to consider his options. “Tell us everything you saw. We let you go. You stay on your side of the city.” 

 

“And you guys patch up my..  _ little scratch _ .” Bruce added, turning his injured cheek to the man on the other side of the bars. 

 

“Sure. I’ll call a medic-” 

 

“I’ve got it.”

 

Bruce looked over to his left, slightly surprised to see that Alfred was there. “I’ve patched him up on more than once occasion. It’s better than some random stranger touching his face.” 

 

Bruce lowered his gaze. Alfred was always great with stitches, he was the only one there who Bruce really felt like he could trust with something like that

 

“Sure, supplies are in that room over there.” Eduardo pointed to a vacant office. Supplies, good. Even if it was just first aid, Bruce would take it. 

 

Alfred stood silently and made his way over to the office, and Bruce followed him with his eyes. Jim made his way over to the cell and unlocked it. He lifted up his hand. “Let me see-”

 

“ _ Don’t _ .” Bruce said sharply, turning his cheek away from Jim. “Your military friend did this after you decided to put me in here. Just because I have a minor injury doesn’t mean we’re friends, Jim.”

 

Jim gazed at him for a moment before nodding once. “I’ll talk with him while Alfred stitches you up. I’m sure we can work out a deal of some kind.”

 

Bruce slowly stepped out of the cell. He noticed Jim didn’t cuff him, but he wasn’t thinking of running anyway. Jim sat him down at a chair and Bruce wiped his cheek with the back of his hand unconsciously. He sighed softly when he saw the red on his hand, feeling stupid for entirely forgetting about his wound. 

 

Jim looked uncomfortable, so Bruce spoke up. “Jim.. you should leave. These people..”

 

“Gotham is my city.” Jim replied simply. “I’ll defend it with my last breath. Even if it means from you.” 

 

“We may not see each other again after today.” Bruce said, looking over as Alfred came out of the other room. 

 

“Off of the battlefield? All I can say is.. good luck, then.” 

 

Bruce watched Alfred take out the necessary items. “Not.. you’ll see what I mean.” 

 

Jim was about to reply when Eduardo called him over, and suddenly it was Bruce and Alfred. Two men who used to be so close, but Bruce knew that they could never return to that. Not that he wanted that anyway, Alfred always slowed him down, pulled him back. The gas would probably just send him into hyper-butler mode. 

 

“Right, let’s get you patched up, Mas… Bruce.” Alfred slowly his movements, then cleared his throat. Bruce turned his cheek to him, huffing softly when he felt the stinging and burning sensations of Alfred cleaning it first. 

 

“Tell me that you don’t trust those soldiers.” Bruce said softly, trying to keep his face still and the soldiers from hearing him. 

 

“Not with my life, that’s for sure.” Alfred replied softly, beginning to dab at the bloody line. “Don’t know what they’re here for. Maybe just to stop you, but that scares me.” 

 

“The fact that the government sent an army just after me, or the fact that I’ve made a good enough impression to warrant that?” Bruce smirked as he glanced at Alfred. 

 

“I hope both of those points prove that they aren’t here for just you, but that begs the question: what are they really here for?” 

 

Alfred continued to treat Bruce’s injury. The best way for it to heal quickly would be with stitches, so Alfred put a few in, then put a bandage over it. “Spans an inch or two. I trust you have someone who will be able to take them out. A week at least, probably less than two knowing that it doesn’t go that deep.” 

 

“Thank you..” Bruce cleared his throat lightly. “I’m being legit about the deal, you know. I just wanna get out of here.” 

 

Alfred considered him for a moment. “I believe you on that first one.. not sure about that second one. You came here for a reason.”

 

“I’m alone and I have the information you need.” Bruce replied, standing up. “Jim and Eduardo would be wise to take my deal.” 

 

“You’re… you’re happy with him?” 

 

Bruce looked back over to Alfred. He was like Jim: he looked years older when it had only been a couple of months. “I am, Alfred. You can stop worrying about me. You’re not my butler anymore, you don’t have to take care of me. You have way more important things on your plate than my wellbeing. I can take care of myself. Jeremiah can take care of me.” 

 

Alfred adjusted his shirt after gathering the supplies and putting it back in the bag. “I.. suppose I have no reason to be worried, then.” 

 

“You don’t. Hell, the worst I’ve gotten hurt has been while in police-  _ military _ \- custody.” 

 

“As long as you’re happy, then I suppose-”

 

“Bruce!” 

 

The pair looked over, and Jim and Dorrance were standing near the hallway to the interrogation room. “Come on.” 

 

“You’re taking me up on the offer?” Bruce asked, standing completely still. 

 

“You tell us everything that you know about what happened at Haven and we let you go.” Eduardo repeated. “That’s the deal, correct?” 

 

Relief washed over Bruce. Thank God, he’d be able to tell them about Nygma, grab his stuff, raid the ruins of the building, and return home. “That’s it.” 

 

Bruce wandered over to the two of them. “I don’t have all the information, just what I saw. I don’t know why, just the things on the surface.”

 

Jim nodded, so Bruce took that as a sign to continue. He held himself just a little straighter as he spoke to Jim, ignoring Dorrance completely. “I was going across the rooftops leading to Haven when I saw a man in green. It only took me a few moments to realize that it was Edward Nygma. He shot Haven with an RPG, it hit on the upper floor. He clearly saw me, but he ignored me. You’d think a man like him wouldn’t just ignore a witness of such a crime.” 

 

The captain stared at Bruce. “Nygma? You’re absolutely sure?” 

 

“I’m positive. One shot from an RPG. I can show you which roof he shot from and everything.” Going back to Haven would give Bruce an advantage: he’d be able to go into the building once Jim, Dorrance, and Alfred had cleared out, leaving him to his own devices and to return home. 

 

“Sure, take us there.” Jim said, nodding once. “Then you leave.” Eduardo held up Bruce’s pouches for emphasis. 

 

Bruce led the three other men out of the station, heading back to the site where Haven was. Bruce looked around as discreetly as he could, trying to find the best way in from the outside. He pointed to the building Ed had been on. It was across Haven’s courtyard. “I don’t know if you’ll find anything there, but that’s where he was. Shot the RPG and it hit..” He turned slightly, pointing at the impact point. “..right there. He had to be slightly higher than Haven to make sure that he wasn’t seen and to make sure he got the correct angle.” 

 

He looked back at the men. “That’s all I know. I called out to Ed and he didn’t notice me, something’s clearly off. I held up my end of the deal.” 

 

Jim looked from Bruce, to Alfred, to Dorrance. “Bruce.. I’m sorry.” 

 

Bruce’s face fell, and he instantly tensed up again. “What? Jim… Jim, come on-”

 

“It’s not my choice to make.” Jim gave him a sad look, and Bruce hated the fact that he knew he was telling the truth. He turned on Dorrance instead, eyes narrowing. His body coiled up, and just as he was about to lunge at him, Dorrance pulled out the same handgun he’d already shot Bruce with. 

 

He calmly pointed it right at Bruce’s forehead. “Not another move. Wouldn’t want your pretty rich boy brains all over in front of Haven, now would we?”

 

Bruce froze entirely. Eduardo was a trained military man with a gun pointed directly at his face. He had no weapons of his own and he didn’t have his mask to protect his face. He glanced over at Jim. “Don’t be their pawn, Jim-”

 

“It’s you or the city, and at this point..” Jim met his eyes again. “..I choose the city.” 

 

“Come on.” Eduardo insisted, waving his gun slightly. “Back to the station.” 

 

***

 

Jeremiah looked over the mansion’s gardens. He brought his tea up to his lips and sipped, sighing softly at the smooth flavor. It was early in the morning. Bruce had been gone for  _ another  _ day. Jeremiah had only gotten a few hours of sleep, likely from pure physical exhaustion after indulging in the darker parts of his mind to keep himself satisfied until Bruce returned. 

 

“Boss, news!” 

 

He didn’t even turn to face Ecco, just dipped his tea and nodded once, hoping for anything helpful. 

 

“Some of our scouts have discovered that that Haven place was blown up! Or at least part of it! Quite a number dead, wounded-!”

 

Jeremiah shot up and spun around, eyes on fire. “ _ What _ ? When?”

 

“We’re thinking probably yesterday or the day before. The fires were mostly out but a few were left, the place was in chaos still, people running everywhere..”

 

Jeremiah deflated, excitement dropping. “No one saw him, did they..” 

 

“I don’t think so. You don’t think that he-”

 

“Blew up Haven?” Jeremiah shook his head. “Not him. He wasn’t carrying any explosives or weapons like that. He went out for supplies, that’s all.. but that means he was held up by just that. The explosion caught him off guard and he’s just waiting to get supplies.” He nodded to himself, sitting back down. “Yes, yes, that’s it..”

 

“Bruce is pretty fast. How long do you think he’d wait? Surely the place would be empty anyway..” Ecco replied softly. 

 

Jeremiah waved his hand and sipped his tea again. “Shush, Ecco. He’s fine, I’m sure of it. How’re the supplies coming along?”

 

“Everything’s still on schedule… I was going to start planting the C4 today.” 

 

He nodded once. “Very good. I’ll go back through to the city once it gets lighter.” 

 

“Sure thing, Boss.” 

 

***

 

Bruce let out a yell, kicking the cell in rage. How could he have been so blind? Of course they wouldn’t let him go- he should’ve lied about what he saw. He should’ve known, he should’ve- 

 

He paced the cell, trying to concentrate. They’d left him alone in the station, but Dorrance had injected him with a drug. It had knocked him out, and now the sky was dark, just a small light shone warmly outside of Bruce’s cell. He’d gradually woken up after experiencing more than one fever dream. 

 

He was with Selina in the first one. She was talking about morals and ethics, a bunch of bullshit that Bruce was hardly listening to. The second one had Jim in it. He was attacking Bruce, punching him in the interrogation room when Bruce didn’t answer a question because he couldn’t hear it. He’d coughed up blood, and he actually felt afraid. It felt so real, he couldn’t hear Jim at all, he felt like he was drowning in his own blood. 

 

In the third one Jeremiah was with him, and Bruce was pretty sure that they were dancing. Maybe it was just swaying, but Bruce didn’t care. He wasn’t covered in blood anymore. The man he loved was in his arms. Jeremiah was listing off why he loved him so much, why they were meant to be together. He had a twinkle in his eyes that only appeared when Bruce was the topic of conversation. His hands were on Bruce’s shoulders, then his arms. One slid down slowly as he talked, but Bruce wasn’t entirely oblivious. Just as the hand was about to reach its destination, Bruce reached behind himself and grabbed Jeremiah’s wrist, much to Jeremiah’s delight. He growled lowly in Jeremiah’s ear, calling him one of many pet names that he knew made him feel weak. 

 

Just as Bruce was about to kiss him gently, cup his face and pull him close, he was pulled out of the dream. He was lying on the cell floor, vision blurry and body aching. He felt like he was sick, the drug made his head feel like it was stuffed with cotton. It took him a few minutes just to be able to sit up without instantly feeling dizzy, and closer to twenty more to stand up. That’s when he fully realized that he was alone in the station, or, at least, no one was in the immediate area. They’d all probably left to go after Ed. It still didn’t make sense to Bruce, Nygma didn’t do things like  _ that.  _

 

He had to get out of the cell. He had to clear his head, too. He wasn’t sure what they’d drugged him with, or if it was even legal. Bruce patted the bandage on his face, making sure it was all still in place. Pain had started to creep across his cheek. It felt like that line of skin was just on fire, burning deeply and reaching his skull. 

 

He pressed up against the bars of the cell, trying to see anything on the floor that he could use. There was nothing. 

 

Lovely. 

 

He couldn’t break open the cell. He was strong, but not inhuman. He closed his eyes, trying to think through the cloudiness that still lingered. 

 

He patted himself down. He’d given all of his weapons to Alfred, he’d been honest about that, but surely he had to have something- 

 

He grinned victoriously, pulling out a paper clip from one of his gun holsters. “Gotcha.” He reaches around the cell’s bars, fumbling for the keyhole. He was going in blind and almost mirrored in a way, but he’d practiced on so many locks. 

 

He began to move it around, listening in utter silence. The lock was old, it hadn’t been updated for a good couple decades. It wouldn’t be too hard. Just some pushing in the right direction and he could get it. 

 

Bruce’s head began to clear even more, and his actions became more precise and direct. After just a few minutes of attempts, the lock clicked and the cell door swung open. He slipped the clip back into his holster and stepped out of the cell. He glanced around again, looking for someone. After deciding that no one was in the immediate area, he took off towards the room where the first aid supplies had been. 

 

He breathed a sigh of relief once he found his things in the corner, tucked away without a second thought. Knowing the military, Eduardo had probably planned on bringing them back to his superiors who would then analyze them to create better weapons for their own soldiers. He tucked his guns back into their holsters and slipped his mask back on. After rummaging through a few boxes of first aid items Bruce found what he guessed to be emergency food and water, or maybe it had been forgotten. After all, it was hidden behind first aid supplies, and wasn’t clearly visible unless you moved a lot of boxes around. 

 

He began to stuff his pouch with everything that he figured they could use. This was a good start, but after all he’d been through, Bruce was ready to take more than what he came for. He pulled up his hood as he stood, and silently padded his way to the door of the station. He held one of his M9s, and glanced out the windows of the door. Once he made sure it was clear, he pushed open the door and slipped out onto the street. 

 

It was quiet. Silent. He didn’t even hear the people from Haven shouting. He heard no bullets. Nothing. 

 

He took off, heading to the nearest building. He half jumped, half ran up the fire escape, his mind fully functioning. He felt energized as a rush of adrenaline hit him. He would not fail this time. He would not be so passive if he got caught again. 

 

***

 

Jeremiah watched in uninterest as the C4 was placed along the tunnel. He didn’t say anything, gave no speech about ‘digging a little deeper’, didn’t even let out the occasional giggle. 

 

He was homesick. 

 

He’d been around Bruce for so long for such long periods of time that he’d entirely grown used to having another person next to him. He’d grown used to having his second-in-command agreeing or disagreeing with him on what to do. He’d grown used to falling asleep right where he knew where he belonged, in the arms of the man that he needed more than anything. He may have finally broken through to their new house where they could start a new life together, but Bruce was his  _ home _ . 

 

Had it been four days? Five? Five months? Five years?

 

He could always talk to Bruce about anything, even if it didn’t relate to what they were doing. Most of the time it didn’t. An idea would just pop into his head, something that he wanted Bruce’s input on. On more than one occasion he would ask Bruce’s opinion on which lipstick color he should wear for the day. 

 

_ “Darling, which shade? This or this?” _

_  
_ _ “Oh, whichever you’re feeling.” _

 

_ “...You know that’s not the answer I was looking for. I want  _ your  _ opinion!”  _

 

_ “My opinion is that it likely will end up all over my face by the end of the day, and certainly all over my body by midnight. So, choose whichever one you want to see on my skin.”  _

 

He was the luckiest man alive. 

 

Jeremiah sat on the other side of the tunnel, staring at the door, waiting. 

 

Waiting for  _ him _ . Waiting for a sound. A sign. Anything. 

 

He tapped Baiser absentmindedly. He should’ve never let Bruce go out by himself. He should’ve made sure he stayed, should’ve ordered him to stay where he was. 

 

Jeremiah shook his head. No, no he let Bruce go because they  _ needed  _ supplies. Even with getting to Bruce’s manor, there wouldn’t be enough food for everyone to last them more than a day or two. It was a necessary evil to accomplish their goals. Bruce went out willingly, he came up with the idea in the first place. 

 

That didn’t exactly put his mind at ease. 

 

He sat there for hours, staring blankly ahead at the door. At around midnight, he heard his name. “Mr. J?”

 

He glanced over at Ecco, shoulders falling. “Another day.” 

 

“If he’s not back by tomorrow night then we can worry.” She said softly, and she even tentatively reached out, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You need rest.” 

 

Jeremiah nodded slowly, then more surely. “Yes.. yes, that’s right. I need sleep. I need a clear head. I’ll be right behind you.” She nodded once and turned back to the tunnel, starting the journey back alone. 

 

He tucked Baiser into her holster, his shoulders deflating even farther. Another night alone in bed, another morning cold empty. He turned, making his way to the tunnel. 

 

Just as he was setting a few feet down, he heard the door of their little hideout swing open. He froze entirely, a chill hitting his skin and then his very core. He slowly reached for Baiser, hearing the softest of footsteps coming closer and closer to the tunnel. His fingers were around her grip, he took a breath, then he pulled her out, spinning around faster than a lightning strike. 

 

It was too dark for him to see if it was friend or foe, male or female. He just saw the outline of something approaching the mouth of the tunnel. He cocked Baiser, and the person reacted enough for him to see it.

 

“Don’t shoot!” 

 

Jeremiah’s blood ran cold. He knew that voice, as long as he lived he never would forget it. If he died and was reincarnated it would still be engraved into his memory, an etching, a part of him that he couldn’t live without. 

 

“ _ Darling _ ?”

 

The figure was entirely still, but Jeremiah heard was sounded like rustling. After a moment a light shone brightly, momentarily blinding them both. Jeremiah’s eyes slowly adjusted as the figured pulled down their hood and mask. 

 

“I’m… sorry I kept you waiting?” 

 

Jeremiah flung himself at Bruce, wrapping his arms around him tightly and squeezing. All he felt was Bruce’s armor and his hair. A string of words came out. Incoherent thoughts, phrases, words, and sentences as his brain went into overdrive. His Bruce was  _ here _ . His Bruce was  _ alive _ . 

 

He felt Bruce return the action, holding him closely. He also heard him laugh, his whole body vibrated against Jeremiah’s. “J, it’s me. It’s me, you’re alright, calm down. God, you’re gonna pass out if you keep this up..”

 

Jeremiah pulled away to cup his cheeks, and he pressed their lips together with more force than he even expected from himself. Bruce hummed softly, running a hand up and down Jeremiah’s back. Jeremiah broke it off just went he was getting truly desperate for air, and he panted, staring at his love. He patted Bruce’s cheek endearingly, only to feel something beneath his glove that wasn’t skin. “Bruce..?”

 

“Hm?” 

 

“What… your cheek..?” Jeremiah reached blindly to pull the hand that was holding the light off of him, and Bruce reluctantly brought it closer to their faces. Jeremiah blinked again in the light, then pulled his hand back. “You got hurt..” 

 

“I’m alright.” Bruce said simply, but Jeremiah felt something beginning to burn up inside of him. Someone hurt  _ his  _ Bruce. 

 

He moved to take the bandage off, now frowning. “Who did it? How bad is it?” He practically hissed. 

 

Bruce wrapped his hand around Jeremiah’s wrist, stopping his movements. “Later, J.”

 

Jeremiah began to pout. “But- but-!” 

 

Bruce pressed his lips to Jeremiah’s palm, then his wrist. “Not now. We have plenty of time later. But right now I think I’m honestly close to being considered ‘starving’. I didn’t have time to stop and eat something on my way back here, so-” 

 

As Bruce reached for his pouch on his back, Jeremiah snapped back to his sense. “Wait, wait, Bruce! We… we made it through!” 

 

Bruce blinked, then looked over at him. “We… did?”

 

Jeremiah nodded frantically and began to pull his arm. “Yes, yes! And there’s  _ real  _ food there! We’ll give all this canned stuff to everyone else!” 

 

Bruce’s face broke out into a grin, and he began to follow Jeremiah. “Ok, ok, but slow down! I’m exhausted, I barely made it here!”

 

Jeremiah slowed his movements and instead linked arms with Bruce, leaning his head on his shoulder as they began to venture through the tunnel together. “We’ve got some walking ahead of us, you better spill what happened.” 

 

Bruce sighed, then nodded. “Right. Well, first off I wasted a day just trying to get there. Territory mixup.” 

 

Jeremiah was listening intently, his free hand rubbing up and down Bruce’s arm. “Mmmhmm.”

 

“Then Haven was bombed by Riddler. RPG. I wasn’t inside luckily, but I saw the whole thing.” 

 

The other man shuddered, now grateful that Bruce had at least  _ that _ delay. “Doesn’t sound like him..” 

 

“I know, I don’t understand it. Anyway, the next day I tried to raid Haven. I thought with all the chaos no one would be inside and I’d be able to take everything that I could. I was wrong to say the least. Alfred caught me.”

 

“He didn’t do that to your face, did he?” Jeremiah asked, suddenly becoming alert and looking at Bruce with a fierceness in his eyes. 

 

“He.. actually he helped patch me up after someone else did it.” Bruce replied, glancing over at him. “He asked me a few things, then Jim did.. I was making a deal with them: I’d tell them what a saw before Haven blew up and they’d let me go. There.. The military is here in Gotham. And their leader was with Jim, down at the station where they were holding me..” He shook his head. “I.. the guy in charge, Eduardo Dorrance.. He.. shot me.” 

 

Jeremiah stopped walking, causing Bruce to get caught where their arms were linked. “He  _ what _ ?!” Jeremiah slipped his arm from Bruce’s and turned, digging into his holster. He was going to go out right then and there and hunt down this Eduardo guy. “I swear I’ll-!” 

 

“My king.”

 

The words caused a flush to fall over Jeremiah’s face, and he looked back at Bruce. “Darling, you know I don’t like it when you call me that. You know that we are equals, I’m not  _ your  _ king.”

 

Bruce held out his hand to him after a moment. “Jeremiah, forget about him. We have the next part of our life to get to. Physical wounds will heal.” 

 

Jeremiah began to pout again, and he holstered Baiser. He went back over to Bruce and ran the back of his hand over Bruce’s uninjured cheek as gently as he could. “But- but he hurt you..” 

 

“And you can heal me by just doing what you always do for me, alright?” Bruce replied softly. “I’m exhausted. I need a shower and sleep. Don’t start a war over a little scar.” 

 

“But we need to establish that we’re the ones in control, that we shouldn’t be messed with!” 

 

Bruce put his hand on top of Jeremiah’s. “We’ll be out of the city in just a few days. We don’t need to establish power or anything here. Let it go, J. Your emotions are running wild, you need rest, too.” 

 

The paler man pursed his lips, then gave a defeated nod. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m being ridiculous. I.. really haven’t had the best of luck sleeping these past few nights.” He and Bruce began to walk together. “I.. tried to put on a brave face, but..” 

 

“I’m sorry, and you know that I am.” Bruce replied softly. “But we won’t have to be apart any longer. Tomorrow I’ll start our preparations for leaving. I’ll never have to go out without you again.” 

 

Jeremiah nuzzled Bruce’s uninjured cheek. “A castle in Switzerland.. They have good food over there.” 

 

Bruce chuckled softly. “It’s not a castle, but sure. And yeah, they do have great food.” 

 

“Well, it’ll be a castle as long as we live there together.” Jeremiah answered. 

 

***

 

Bruce woke up to the feeling of someone beneath him shifting. He let out a soft groan, tightening his hold on said someone. “Stay.. it’s early.” He nuzzled into their neck, breathing deeply. 

 

“Mmm.. darling, I have work to do.. You can stay here for as long as you’d like.” Jeremiah replied, slipping out from under Bruce. “I would love to stay, but we have to continue to prepare to leave. I need to make sure that all goes smoothly.” 

 

The vigilante opened one eye, then closed it. “You owe me.” 

 

“I’ll make you some food, I’ll come get you once it’s ready.” Jeremiah pressed a kiss to Bruce’s forehead, and Bruce heard him leave the room.  

 

Bruce rolled back over. He’d taken a shower the previous night, but he’d been so tired that Jeremiah had only been able to shove a few spoonfuls of ration into his mouth before he was practically falling asleep on him. His stomach rumbled, and he wondered if Jeremiah was even a good cook. Not that he himself was great by any means, but he felt like Jeremiah could easily ruin even basic things on accident. He was a scientist, not a cook. 

 

He drifted in and out of consciousness for an hour, and was brought out of a state of near-sleep by a loud, rolling explosion. Another explosion in the city? 

 

His stomach rumbled again, and he decided that he was of no use just lazing around, even if he was tired. He rose and rubbed his eyes, then made his way out of the room. He made his way down the stairs of the manor, glancing around. The place was dustier than he’d ever seen it before, but everything seemed to be in its place. Neat and tidy, just as Alfred had left it. 

 

He passed a handful of people that Jeremiah had recruited on the way to the kitchen, and he wasn’t quite sure what would come of them. He didn’t want the manor to be overrun by people like them, no. In fact, he wanted to keep open the option of returning to the manor after Gotham fell apart. Sure, he and Jeremiah could hide in Europe for the rest of their days, pretending that they had no  involvement in what happened. After all, if Gotham all fell apart into chaos, would anyone really take the word of its citizens? As far as Bruce could tell, most outsiders would consider the whole city gone, and the government wouldn’t bother with reconnection with the mainland. It’s just what they did. 

 

He pushed open the door to the kitchen. A sweet smell hit his nose, and the soft crackling of something came from his right. He looked over, eyes falling upon Jeremiah. He cleared his throat gently before making his way over to him. He couldn’t count how many times he’d come up to Jeremiah to hug him from behind, only to have the other man let out a screech of terror and whack him in the face, thinking he was being attacked. This time, Jeremiah hummed as his arms wrapped around him, and Bruce kissed his hair. 

 

“I told you that I would come get you.” Jeremiah mumbled softly, turning his head slightly so that Bruce could kiss the corner of his mouth. He was making food- waffles and bacon. “It’s not ready yet.” 

 

Bruce hummed and grabbed the spatula that clearly was being used for the bacon. He flipped the pieces over once or twice, then turned off that burner. “The bacon is.” 

 

Jeremiah huffed. “I… I knew that. I was testing  _ you _ .” Bruce grabbed a plate and laid a paper towel over it, then slid the bacon slices onto the plate. “I just want to make sure that  _ your  _ cooking skills don’t get too rusty.” 

 

Bruce laughed gently. “Oh, yeah. Like  _ I  _ can cook!” 

 

“You’re better than me.” Jeremiah opened the waffle maker then flopped the hot waffle onto a plate with a few others already waiting. “Then again, I don’t know if that says a whole lot.” 

 

Bruce placed the bacon down at the table. “Alright, I’ll get everything else set while you finish those.” 

 

Jeremiah groaned. “But Bruuuuce this is supposed to be my gift to you!” 

 

“Equal work. Equal say. That’s what you’ve held me to.” Bruce replied, beginning to set the table. “Breakfast is no different. And besides, you can treat me for real tonight.” 

 

Jeremiah nearly choked on air at Bruce’s words, and he felt a blush creep across his entire body. “O-oh?”

 

He suddenly felt a large presence press up against his back, and his knees practically gave out. Luckily the person behind him was holding him snugly against the counter, and wouldn’t let him fall if it came to it. Bruce leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Jeremiah’s neck. “Mmm..” 

 

Jeremiah reached up and threaded his fingers through Bruce’s hair. “Darling, the things you’re doing to me.. you  _ know _ that I’m not above begging..” 

 

Bruce smirked and pulled away from him, trailing his hand across Jeremiah’s back. “Shush, not in the kitchen. You’ll get exactly what you want once we’ve finished our work for the day.” 

 

Jeremiah shivered, rolling his shoulders at Bruce’s touch. “Yes, darling..” 

 

He finished the waffles and Bruce was already at the table, sipping on a mug of tea. “I hope you weren’t intent on having many leftovers, I feel like I could eat everything here.” 

 

“If you do, no one’s going to be mad at you.” Jeremiah answered. He put a waffle on Bruce’s plate, and as Bruce began to put butter on it, he hummed. “Push your chair out.” 

 

Bruce looked up at him. “I.. what?”

 

“Push your chair out from the table.” 

 

The darker haired man glanced at his waffle, back to his love, then scooted his chair back a handful of inches. Jeremiah grinned then promptly sat on Bruce’s lap sideways, getting comfy on his love. “Knife.” 

 

Bruce held out his butter-covered knife to him, and Jeremiah began to finish preparing the waffle for him. He hummed as he took the fork and began to cut it up, then he poured a large pool of syrup onto the lap. He grabbed the plate and held it close to himself, then turned so that he was facing Bruce more. He grinned and stabbed a piece of waffles, then lifted it up to Bruce. “Open!”

 

The other man stared at him in an awed silence as he worked. He blinked when Jeremiah spoke to him, and he cleared his throat before opening his mouth. Jeremiah practically beamed and carefully pressed the fork past Bruce’s lips. Bruce chewed the piece and swallowed. “It’s.. really tasty..” 

 

Jeremiah practically squealed in delight. First he’d made his Bruce breakfast (and narrowly avoided burning the bacon) and now he was feeding him! 

 

“There’s… you should eat, too.” Bruce said, trying to grab the plate from Jeremiah. Jeremiah held it out of his reach, a pout crossing his face. 

 

“No!” He sounded entirely like a child, and Bruce couldn’t help but laugh. He held up his hands in surrender, and Jeremiah took that as a sign to continue. 

 

After a few more pieces, Jeremiah swung his legs back and forth. “Just because we do equal work does not mean that I can’t treat my knight to what he so rightly deserves..” 

 

“Oh, so the equality only works one way, huh?” Bruce teased, and Jeremiah shook his head. 

 

“No, no, sweetheart, I mean in… a professional sense. This right here doesn’t apply to our working relationship. This is our personal relationship, and in it, you  _ are  _ my king.”  

 

Bruce opened his mouth to argue, but Jeremiah slipped another piece of waffle into his mouth instead. He stared at him, eyes soft. “Don’t argue with me..” 

 

Jeremiah leaned over and held a slice of bacon out to him. “Bacon?”

 

“I want you to have it.” Bruce replied. Jeremiah straightened up and settled himself on Bruce. 

 

“Hmph. Alright.” He began to bite the slice. “It’s really good. You’d love it.” 

 

Bruce reached over and took one for himself. He laughed to himself, getting an eyebrow raise from Jeremiah. “What is it?”

 

“This feels so.. so domestic, I guess.” Bruce replied, finishing his slice. “Like we’re not… like the city hasn’t fallen apart. Like it isn’t  _ going  _ to fall apart. Like I wasn’t on the run from the cops just yesterday.” 

 

“That’s why we’re here. So the city doesn’t get to us. So no one can find us.” Jeremiah replied, and he cupped Bruce’s cheek with his hand. “That’s why we’re going to leave. So we don’t have to remember the city, so we can have more moments like this.”

 

Bruce gave him a chaste kiss, and he ran a hand up and down Jeremiah’s side. “Now, go sit over there and eat.” 

 

***

 

Jeremiah gazed at the tunnel. It was their last tie to Gotham, the tunnel was the end of the era they were going to leave behind, the end of their old selves that they’d killed off. Once they destroyed it they could never go back. 

 

In truth, he knew he didn’t need the diggers any longer. The only issue was that they would remember that Jeremiah was the one who had them hypnotized and worked like dogs for hours and hours. He could keep them hypnotized and working for Ecco as long as she stayed in the manor, she wasn’t leaving with them after all. It would be a lot easier than killing them all and having to bury the bodies. 

 

Then again, if he and Bruce ever wanted to return, coming home to a manorful of brainless slaves wouldn’t be exactly welcome. And Jeremiah wasn’t sure if Ecco even wanted to stay at the manor. 

 

Well, they did have plenty of ammo, and even if they didn’t want to waste bullets they could kill them in other ways. And the river wasn’t too far, no one would find the bodies for years..

 

Jeremiah grinned victoriously. Yes, that would do! If no one found the bodies there would be no proof! It would get rid of the whole cleanup process as well. 

 

He snapped to one of the hypnotized diggers. “Round up all your friends in the backyard ASAP! Every single one of you!”

 

They gave a firm nod and hurried off. Jeremiah glances out of the window, towards the city. The skyscrapers peeked out from the treeline, and Jeremiah wondered how they were doing over there. Had the city already gone under in one night? No, that was foolish thinking. 

 

How was Bruce coming along? He was going to arrange for a chopper to pick them up and take them to the airport once everything was in place. Jeremiah figured that Bruce would want to see the end to so many  _ loyal  _ employees, so he set out from where he’d been planning supplies distribution to look for him. 

 

He searched for what felt like an hour before bumping into Ecco. She was grabbing and rearranging supplies. “Ecco, have you seen Bruce?”

 

“He… said he was going out.” She replied after a moment. “Not to the city, but I have no idea where went.” 

 

Jeremiah’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You… let him go  _ by himself _ ?! After what happened to him?” 

 

She held up her hands. “He was wearing normal clothes, Boss. It’s not like he was gonna try to jump one of the bridges or something!”

 

He rubbed his temple with his hand. “You… you’re right. He’s fine, I’m sure.” 

 

She tilted her head. “Everyone’s all gathered out back. You’re not going to free them, are you?” 

 

“Their hypnosis will break eventually, I’m sure. Once that happens, they’ll tell the whole world what happened, and you, Bruce, and I will never find peace.” 

 

“We could’ve left them in the city…”

 

“And then they tell Jim Gordon who then tells the US Army?” Jeremiah shook his head. “I think not, Ecco. We kill them then dump the bodies in the river.” 

 

She grinned. “Sounds daring, Boss. And you want Bruce to be there?” 

 

“He should be there. He’s good at it.” 

 

Ecco laughed at that, reaching up to adjusted a messy bun. “You won’t even have to waste bullets. Just wait for him to get back the give him hell for leaving.”

 

He clicked his tongue, then turned away from her. “You know I won’t. Those eyes… god..” 

 

“Boss, I think he’s made you soft.” 

 

He looked back at her. “Quite the contrary, he usually makes me quite… well, never mind. You can go out back if you’d like. There’s plenty for us to get rid of.” 

 

***

 

Bruce stopped at the edge of the bridge. He wasn’t sure why that checkpoint was entirely unguarded, why the military wasn’t monitoring it. He’d pushed past crudely put up barricades, had slipped under many ‘DO NOT CROSS’ tape lines. Maybe they’d already given up, maybe things were already set in motion. 

 

Bruce gazed across the bridge to the other side. A long expanse of emptiness separated him from the city, the promise of certain death if he jumped into the gap that the bombs had made. He truly wondered, for the first time ever, just how many bodies were in the river. 

 

How many people had jumped after the bridges blew? How many had been pushed in from the chaos? How many had died trying to escape the city? 

 

He caught movement in the corner of his eye, and looked back across the river. There was someone there, someone who likely knew he was on the other side. Judging by the abandoned car they were next to, Bruce guessed that they weren’t an adult. He heard a shout, but nothing echoed, and the sound dissipated to the point where he couldn’t hear what was said. 

 

They were waving frantically at him. For the briefest of moments, Bruce felt something press against his heart. It creeped up his chest, up to his throat. He felt entirely overwhelmed and angry. He felt despair, like the end of the world was coming. He swallowed thickly, and without thinking, he took a step towards the person. 

 

The sound of something crumbling beneath his foot brought him out of his thoughts, and the pressure vanished. He stepped back, looking up from the bridge to the person who’d called out to him. He no longer felt those awful emotions that made him weak. No longer felt powerless. Killing off his old self, finding his true potential, that’s what made him strong. That’s what made him powerful. The feeling he’d had was entirely gone, and he silently turned. He heard them yell again as he returned to the stable mainland, but he didn’t look back. 

 

He made his way back up to the manor. It was a long walk, but he needed the space. It was funny, he’d spent days separated from Jeremiah, but now he felt like the presence of everyone in the manor and the manor itself were crushing him. 

 

He’d grown up there. He’d first learned to fight there. He’d met Selina and foolishly believed in what she told him for over four years there. He’d been kidnapped there. He’d faught Alfred there. He’d been with Selina when Jeremiah came in and shot her there. He’d balanced on stair banisters there. He’d run away from lavish birthday parties to be alone there. He’d discovered that he meant everything to his father there. He’d sworn to Alfred that he would never kill there. 

 

By the time he’d reached the manor he had pulled off the bandage on his cheek subconsciously. He wasn’t surprised to see Jeremiah poking around the front of the manor as he walked up the driveway. Jeremiah turned and a grin spread widely across his face as he waved to Bruce. As Bruce approached, that grin gradually faded into a look of worry, and Jeremiah seemed suddenly transfixed by Bruce. “W.. Bruce, your..” 

 

“Hm?” Bruce glanced down at the wadded up bandage in his hand and then lifted his hand to his cheek. “ Ah, shit.” 

 

“I never thought that.. That..” 

 

“That a bullet could graze someone so cleanly?” Bruce shook his head. “I’ve never moved so fast in my life. I’m going to put something over this.”    
  


Jeremiah raised his hand suddenly. “There’s.. I’ve decided what we’re going to do with our.. hypnotized friends. Do you want to join?”

 

He shook his head. “No, no. I’m alright. I’m gonna patch this up.”

 

“Where were you?”

 

“I went down to one of the bridges. There’s no military personnel there.” Bruce replied. “They’re heavily reconsidering reunification with the mainland after what happened in Haven.” 

 

“What do you think our chances of being followed and outed are?”

 

“Even if they find the tunnel, we have advantage. This is our turf. And besides, there’s no reason for them to rule it as a way out of the city as long as they think we’re still there. Gotham’s a big city. Even in this state, it’s not hard for people like us to hide.” 

 

Jeremiah nodded, and he reached down to squeeze Bruce’s hand. “I’ll see you inside, then.” 

 

“Don’t waste your bullets, but don’t draw it out.” Bruce said softly, to which Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Darling, surely you’re not getting soft on me..?”

 

Bruce ran a hand up and down Jeremiah’s arm. “You have better things to do with your time. And.. I’ve got better things to do with mine.” 

 

A spark of confusion crossed Jeremiah’s face. “You haven’t finished preparing, yet?” 

 

Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle, and he kissed Jeremiah gently. “You’re so adorable when you have no idea what’s happening.” 

 

“Wha- when I don’t know what’s happening? What- hey, get back here!” Bruce had started to walk back to the manor, now really needing to put something over his stitches. He looked back at Jeremiah and gave him a wink, to which Jeremiah flushed at. Jeremiah reluctantly let him go, going off to the other side of the manor. 

 

***

 

Bruce cleaned his cheek, humming softly as the skin stung. He gently placed a new bandage over it and looked at himself on the mirror. 

 

His hair had grown out and it was the longest it had been in a while. Traces of stubble that he had no memory of growing dotted his face. His eyes seemed darker, his gaze was more intense than it had been even just a few months ago. He was physically bigger, building up more muscle as those months passed. 

 

No cosmetic changes from the gas. He didn’t look like the scrawny teenager anymore. He was hardened by conflict, by choices, by pain. But that’s why he was who he was. He knew that Alfred would never take him back, that Jim would never look at him in the same way ever again. He’d closed that chapter in his life. He’d moved beyond that. He was greater than that. 

 

He pushed himself away from the bathroom counter and settled on his bed. His gear lay in the corner of the room, armor placed gently on its rack and weapons on a small table. He wandered over after a moment and picked up one of his handguns, rolling it over in his hands. He raised it and held it steady. After they left, he would likely never have a need for it again.

 

He set it down then picked up one of his batarangs. Even just holding it the wrong way could cut his hand, Jeremiah had made sure that the blades were extremely sharp. Bruce heard the door to the room open as he studied the slim weapon, and he glanced up from it briefly. “Hey..” 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“You went through a lot of trouble to make all this gear.” Bruce held the batarang up to him. “Probably will never get used again.” 

 

Jeremiah studied the weapon. “It served its purpose, didn’t it? It kept you safe.” His eyes wandered over to Bruce’s cheek. “Well… almost.” 

 

“Just give it time.” Bruce replied softly. He held the weapon up, vaguely pointed it at Jeremiah. “Skin cells, platelets. I told you, I’ll be healed up in no time.” 

 

Jeremiah hummed, clearly not too impressed. He suddenly stepped towards Bruce, the point of the batarang resting against his neck. Bruce held it steady, glancing from him to the weapon. “You know how sharp these are.”

 

Jeremiah gave him a lopsided grin. “I do. I’m… don’t you have better things to be doing with your time?” He pressed himself ever so slightly forward, the batarang making a cut on his neck that would grow if he went any further. Bruce pulled the weapon back, but also grabbed onto Jeremiah with his free hand and pulled him right up against him, their lips meeting in a hasty kiss. 

 

Bruce blindly set the weapon down and Jeremiah let out a soft giggle into the kiss. “Hah.. was kind of hoping you’d use that on me..” Bruce pulled away from the kiss, and Jeremiah let out a soft whine, reaching out to wrap his arms around Bruce’s shoulders and pull himself close to him. 

 

The brunett chuckled and wrapped his arms around Jeremiah’s middle. “I was going to pull off your jacket.” He accented his point by tugging on one of Jeremiah’s sleeves. 

 

Jeremiah huffed. “You can do that while still kissing me.” 

 

“I was running out of air. And I can’t pull it off when your arms are around me like this.” Bruce pointed out. The other man reluctantly slipped his arms away from Bruce’s shoulders and he helped Bruce pull off his jacket. 

 

“Clothes.. so inconvenient…” 

 

“If we didn’t have clothes then you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of me.” Bruce loosened Jeremiah’s tie, and Jeremiah brought their lips together again. 

 

Bruce let the tie fall to the floor, and Jeremiah protested between rough kisses. “That’s tie.. is  _ expensive _ .” 

 

“We’re rich.” Bruce nipped his bottom lip, smoothing his hands down Jeremiah’s sides to his hips. “The floor is probably clean.” 

 

Jeremiah giggled, and Bruce felt his hands in his hair instead of the material of his gloves. “‘Probably’? It hasn’t been cleaned in months.”

 

“I never exactly spent a whole lot of time in my room.” Bruce said, glancing down at the floor. “Though it might be a little dusty.” 

 

Jeremiah gave him a small smile, then pressed another kiss to his lips. “That’s alright, it won’t bother us..” 

 

Bruce pressed their chests together and squeezed Jeremiah’s hips, making him shudder in delight. Jeremiah parted his lips and the kisses became rougher, sloppier. Bruce eventually trailed kisses from his mouth down to his jaw, sucking on the skin gently. 

 

Jeremiah let out a whine, holding onto Bruce ever so slightly tighter. “Last night.. it was the best I’d slept in almost a week..”

 

“Hm?” Bruce pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck. “Oh, you were up worrying about me, weren’t you?” He straightened up and looked at him intently. 

 

A soft pout crossed the other man’s face. “What was I supposed to do? Sleep well while you were out there all alone?” 

 

Bruce took one of his hands from his shoulder and placed a kiss on his knuckles. “Yes, you were so that you’d be able to function by yourself and still make good decisions without someone else’s input.” 

 

Jeremiah huffed. “I  _ guess _ . It was just so hard.. being in an empty bed.. all alone. I got used to your arms around me. It just.. wasn’t right. But last night felt a lot better.” 

 

“I’ll make sure to hold you even closer tonight, alright?” Bruce cupped his cheek and kissed him, then moved back to his neck. He bit down on Jeremiah’s pulse pointed and Jeremiah moaned loudly, his hands moving around Bruce to slip under his shirt. 

 

Jeremiah’s fingers slid up Bruce’s torso, carefully exploring his warm skin. They dipped over recently-formed muscle and small scars. They stopped as Bruce bit down on Jeremiah’s ear, tugging and earning him another moan from Jeremiah. “Bruce.. your shirt..” 

 

Bruce pulled off of him to lift his shirt over his head. Jeremiah began to work on his own shirt, mundanely undoing each button and pushing it off of his shoulders quickly. Bruce leaned forward and pressed kisses across Jeremiah’s shoulders and his chest, biting down near his collarbone. Jeremiah responded by lightly raking his nails across Bruce’s back as he let out another moan. “Oh, I missed you.. I missed this.” Bruce kissed him roughly. 

 

“I missed you, too.” Bruce said softly, and Jeremiah cupped his face. 

 

“Promise me that you won’t be a smart idiot and persuade me to let you do dangerous things like that again.” He said quietly, hardly above a whisper. 

 

“I promise. I also promise that I’m trying to make up for being away for so long.” 

 

Jeremiah’s lips curved into a grin. “Oh, I think it’ll take some very convincing actions to get me to forgive you.” 

 

Bruce bumped their noses together. “You know that I can go all night long.” 

 

The other man closed his eyes, letting out a soft moan. “God, do I  _ ever _ .. All the marks you’ve left on me are proof of that..”

 

“Speaking of those marks..” Bruce looked Jeremiah’s torso up and down, running his hand over his skin. “I don’t see any from me.” 

 

“They’re not that deep, they fade after just a few days.” Jeremiah replied, petting Bruce’s hair. “I wouldn’t mind having a few more… maybe in some more visible places.. a little deeper..”

 

“I’m not bringing a knife to bed, J.” Bruce replied. He stepped away and tugged on his arm. “But I will bring you to bed.” 

 

Jeremiah followed him, staring at him with a grin across his face. “Mr. Wayne, are you trying to seduce me?” He fell back against the bed, and Bruce followed him, catching himself on his elbows. 

 

“Is it working?” He asked, and Jeremiah responded by leaning up to press a deep kiss to his lips. Bruce pressed his hand against Jeremiah’s hip as he adjusted himself on the bed. 

 

The kisses became rougher again as they fell into a better rhythm. Jeremiah moaned into Bruce’s mouth as their tongues pressed together, and Bruce decided to start grinding against him, pushing his hips onto Jeremiah’s. 

 

Jeremiah broke the kiss, some of his lipstick now smeared. “Darling, o-oh.. W-we should play a game..”

 

Bruce nuzzled his neck. “A game? Like roleplaying?”  

 

“Yes, exactly like that.” He looked up at Bruce intently. “Manhandle me, be rough with me, Bruce.. I’m a slutty brat and I want you to get mad at me.. I want you to make all those marks on me again.. I’ll let you know if it’s too much.. promise..”  

 

Bruce considered it for a few seconds, then pressed against him again, and Jeremiah closed his eyes as another wave of pleasure hit him. “I love you so much.. God, I’m gonna make you feel so good, J..” 

 

Jeremiah moved his legs so that Bruce was able to move his own hips under his. He ground up against Jeremiah, who moved one of his hands to grip Bruce’s shoulder. “Hahh.. you always do like to take things..  _ slow _ ..” 

 

Bruce kissed him again. “I have to take my time with you right now. I need to really feel you.” 

 

Jeremiah rolled his eyes. “But you feel me even when we go  _ fast _ , Darling. And you  _ know  _ how I love it when you’re rough with me.” 

 

“I can be rough and slow with you.” Bruce rolled his hips against him. “I want a nice buildup, I didn’t have any before we started.” 

 

Bruce continued to grind against him, and Jeremiah ground back each time. He could feel Bruce under him, he could feel him straining against his pants. He was getting frustrated that Bruce wasn’t already bending him over and claiming him at that point. He wanted to see him, he wanted to feel him. 

 

After a particularly rough grind that hit the right spot, Jeremiah let out a soft whine. “Bruuuce, oh my god,  _ please _ , I want it..” 

 

Bruce paused his movements, caught off guard from Jeremiah already begging him. “Babe..” 

 

Jeremiah pushed himself up into a better sitting position, then reached between his legs for Bruce’s pants. He popped the button open and Bruce grabbed his wrist when he went for the zipper. “J, we have plenty of time.” 

 

“I don’t care about  _ that _ .” Jeremiah suddenly growled, his eyes narrowing for added effect. “I want you inside of me  _ now _ . You  _ owe  _ me.” 

 

Bruce searched his face for confirmation that Jeremiah wanted him to continue. “I don’t know. I was the one out there risking my ass for  _ you _ . I have the scar to prove it.” 

 

Maybe that hit a little too close to home, because Jeremiah’s gaze became sorrowful as he looked Bruce up and down. Bruce took Jeremiah’s hand into his own, waiting for him to tell him that it was too much. Instead, Jeremiah squeezed his hand and his smirk returned. “You know, every night, I could only sleep after I thought about you.. I had to imagine that you were there with me, but it wasn’t the same. My fingers don’t feel the same as yours, or feel like your cock. I even thought of asking  _ someone else _ for-” 

 

Jeremiah’s quasi-fake speech was cut off as Bruce grabbed his throat, applying a pressure that was far from Jeremiah’s breaking point but enough to get his attention. He couldn’t help but giggle, even reaching up with his own hand and squeezing Bruce’s in encouragement. 

 

Bruce’s eyes were dark, and while he knew that Jeremiah was kidding as part of their game, he felt hot and he  _ did  _ feel angry for leaving him for so long. “You thought about me?”

 

Jeremiah nodded to the best of his ability, speaking with only some difficulty. “I’m so used to you using me, being rough with me.. it’s hard to go to sleep when I’m not exhausted from sex. I had to indulge, I had to pretend..” 

 

Bruce squeezed harder, making Jeremiah’s whole body shiver. “It wasn’t enough, was it? God, you’re so needy..”

 

Jeremiah giggled again. “I  _ am.  _ It wasn’t even close to being enough… I was worried  _ sick _ . You should’ve been there, should’ve been with me. Should’ve been bending me over the side of the bed and-”

 

He was cut off as Bruce squeezed again. “You can’t go a day without me inside you, can you?” 

 

The paler man giggled. “I was so tempted to ask someone to help me, after all, everyone  _ else  _ had stuck around and probably would be able to do it better than you-”

 

Bruce pinned him to the bed by his neck, pushing a large part of his weight onto that one spot. Jeremiah’s eyes widened, his tight pants becoming even tighter as he felt his air supply really reduce. Bruce lowered himself down, speaking softly. “I want you naked with that tight little ass of yours in the air in the next ten seconds.” 

 

Jeremiah cleared his throat. “Is.. that an order?”

 

Bruce squeezed harder for emphasis, and for just a moment he held Jeremiah entirely cut off from air. Then he let him go and stood up. “Yes.”

 

Jeremiah gasped for air, taking in a deep breath before he started on his pants quickly. He pulled them and his boxers off carelessly, shoving them to the other side of the bed, before doing what he was told and getting on his hands and knees.

 

Bruce discarded his own pants and boxers and retrieved something from the nightstand before settling behind him. He took a moment to press gentle kisses up and down Jeremiah’s back, and he pressed one to his shoulder. “Comfy?” 

 

Jeremiah nodded quickly, even turning his head to look at him. Bruce kissed his shoulder again, then straightened up behind him. Jeremiah took that as a cue to look forward, although it really was thrilling to see Bruce behind him like that. 

 

After a moment of stillness, Jeremiah was going to break and ask Bruce if  _ he  _ was alright, but suddenly he felt a sharp sting on his right asscheek, accompanied by a  harsh noise. He tensed for the briefest of moments before breaking out into giggles. 

 

That earned him a harder slap on the same spot, this time it caused him to moan softly. “Oh, darling, I didn’t know you were into  _ this _ .” 

 

“Well, I’m not surprised that you are.” Another slap, this time close to the top of his thigh. His entire body shivered, and he lowered himself from his elbows to the bed. If Bruce was going to keep this up he wasn’t sure how long it would take before his muscles gave out. 

 

Bruce rubbed the skin gently, and Jeremiah adjusted his hips, spreading his legs just a little bit further as he let out another giggle. “I thought you told me that you’d never hurt me in bed.”

 

“Does it actually hurt?” 

 

“Not when it’s from you, darling.” A slap lower on his thigh that made him moan loudly. “You know, I can do more with my mouth than just moan-”

 

A particularly hard sting on a spot that Jeremiah knew would be pink in a few minutes. Bruce rubbed the spot before speaking. “If I fuck your mouth then all of your pretty little moans will be muffled, and that takes out half of the fun. Besides, I know where you really want me.” 

 

Jeremiah whined softly, and he felt a blush creep across his skin. Bruce was right, there was really only one thing that they both had in mind for the night. 

 

Another slap on his ass before he felt Bruce shift away from him. He turned to look at him, only to find him opening the drawer of the nightstand. “Bruuuuuce.” 

 

He pulled out a small bottle, tossing it onto the bed before joining him again. “Face me?” 

 

Jeremiah did as asked, pushing himself up and turning over to face Bruce. “Don’t use too much.” 

 

Bruce settled between his legs, popping open the cap of the lube and pouring some onto his fingers. “You’re sure?” 

 

“Well, if it was up to me then you wouldn’t be using any at all, but  _ yes _ .” His muscles tensed as he felt Bruce’s touch against him, but they relaxed as Bruce applied pressure. 

 

He felt the first finger up to the first knuckle, pushing up into him slowly. He ran his hand over Bruce’s shoulder absentmindedly. “God, I wanna feel you for a week.” 

 

Bruce laughed gently. “A week? I don’t know about that.” He pushed in farther, brushing against Jeremiah’s prostate and causing him to gasp, then moan loudly. 

 

Jeremiah gripped Bruce’s shoulder tightly. “ _ Bruce _ , oh, I can’t wait, Bruce-”

 

Bruce slipped his finger out and began to apply lube to his length. “You really want to have trouble walking tomorrow, don’t you..”

 

Jeremiah slipped his hands into his hair. “I do. Just gives me an excuse to be carried by you. Or I can pretend that I’m sick and you’ll have no choice but to lay with me all day and I’m sure we’d be able to do  _ plenty  _ while alone in bed for a handful of hours..” 

 

Bruce cut him off with a kiss and pressed himself into Jeremiah as Jeremiah whined. He threaded his fingers through his hair as Bruce pushed in all the way, and he let out a satisfied sigh when he paused his movements. 

 

“Bruce..” He lowered a hand and traced a finger down Bruce’s wrist, down the hand that was holding his hip tightly. “Mhh, God, you feel so good..” 

 

Bruce kissed him again. “So tight, don’t wanna hurt you, J.”

 

Jeremiah tapped on Bruce’s hand. “Darling, I’m ready.” His love began to move his hips, setting a steady pace. Jeremiah closed his eyes, moaning again as soon as Bruce began to move. “Oh, Bruce, aaah..”

 

“Feel so good..” Bruce replied softly. He adjusted his hips and switched his angle, making Jeremiah moan again and grab onto Bruce’s hand. 

 

“Ooh, Bruce, yesss..” He arched his back, so Bruce leaned down to kiss his chest, making his way up to his neck. He began to thrust into him faster, biting down on Jeremiah’s pulse point. He felt hands return to his hair as Jeremiah cried out softly. 

 

“Ah, aaaah, Bruce, oh my God!” Jeremiah took a shaky breath, moving his hips against Bruce as he pushed in and out of him. Bruce kissed him deeply, pulling on his bottom lip with his teeth before pushing himself up to thrust harder. 

 

Jeremiah let out a satisfied sigh, tilted his head back and exposing his neck for Bruce, who lightly began to trace his fingers across Jeremiah’s neck. He felt each of Jeremiah’s moans and whines hum in his throat, his adam’s apple shifting under his fingers. Bruce pulled out entirely, then pushed back in swiftly, and Jeremiah practically yelled. “ _ Bruce _ ! Oh, again!” 

 

Bruce did as asked, this time wrapping his fingers around Jeremiah’s throat and squeezing lightly. He let out a soft moan as he felt Jeremiah clench around him, moaning loudly again. 

 

Jeremiah slipped his hand down to Bruce’s, covering it and squeezing as a sign to go further. Bruce adjusted his position and began to thrust at a certain spot, making Jeremiah whine loudly and tighten his grip on Bruce’s hand. 

 

Bruce huffed softly after each breath, his eyes focused on his hand on Jeremiah’s neck. Jeremiah’s eyes were closed, squeezing back shut each time he tried to keep them open, but when Bruce hit his prostate they opened instantly. “ _ Fuck _ ,  _ Bruce _ !” 

 

The brunette moaned louder than he had been, but it was still practically drowned out by Jeremiah’s exclamation. The muscles were particularly tight there, and when he hit them, it sent shivers up his entire body. He hit it again, applying extra pressure to Jeremiah’s neck. “Like this, babe?”

 

Jeremiah nodded, a small grin crossing his face. “Yes,  _ yes _ .” Bruce huffed softly as he continued to hit that spot, his release gradually starting to catch up to him. He pressed on Jeremiah’s neck harder, making his lover close his eyes and clench around him again. 

 

Bruce stopped his movements to pull Jeremiah closer to him, and Jeremiah took a moment to catch his breath. “Bruce, I’m so close, you’re gonna leave me a wreck.” 

 

“Isn’t that what you want?” Bruce took his hand off of his neck, taking a moment to appreciate the marks already forming on Jeremiah’s skin. 

 

“I want you to leave me as a… rather unfortunate wreck.” Jeremiah decided, looking up at him. “You know, really-”

 

Bruce cut him off by wrapping his fingers around his throat rather tightly and starting up his thrusts again. “You talk too much. If I squeeze hard enough maybe you’ll shut up.” 

 

Jeremiah tried to let out a laugh, but it was rather soft from his limited air supply. Bruce found his prostate again and began to attack it with all the force he could. It was easier when Jeremiah faced away from him, but it was harder for him to choke Jeremiah if he wasn’t facing him. 

 

Jeremiah attempted to meet his thrusts, his moans softened. Bruce knew that he was saying his name over and over, along with a few growls of ‘yes’. He also knew that Jeremiah was trying to be loud, whether it was on purpose or not. He gradually lifted the pressure, and Jeremiah took in air before moaning loudly. 

 

A string of words came out that Bruce couldn’t make out at first. Jeremiah always did it when he was close to release: his words strung together, some phrases coming out as whispers, others closer to shouts. It didn’t take long for Bruce to realize that he was entirely begging him for more. 

 

“Bruce,  _ oh my god _ , BruceBruce, fuck I’m so close! Harder,  _ harder _ , fuck me-” 

 

Bruce stopped his movements suddenly, then pulled out. Before Jeremiah was able to catch his breath to complain, Bruce spoke softly but sternly. “Turn around.” 

 

Jeremiah did as asked, a hint of confusion on his face. He got on his hands and knees, wiggling his hips as Bruce adjusted himself behind him. “Oh, darling, I’m going to end up cumming all over our bed-”

 

He was cut off with a sharp cry as Bruce pushed into him quickly, beginning to find a rough pace and a harsh angle. Jeremiah dropped his head forward, hands already gripping the covers of their bed. Bruce was now almost hitting his prostate directly, and every thrust sent pleasure coursing through their bodies. 

 

Jeremiah dropped onto his elbows, his face pressed up against his forearms. Even while facing down into the bed, his moans came out loudly and clearly. Bruce’s moans were getting louder as he began to approach his release. He pressed kisses up Jeremiah’s back to the back of his neck, to his shoulders. He bit Jeremiah’s ear, mumbling to Jeremiah about how he loved him so much. 

 

“Bruce, ahaha… I love you, too, darling..” Jeremiah managed between moans and sighs. He turned and their lips met in a surprisingly gentle kiss, one that Jeremiah was practically melting into. When they broke away Bruce nuzzled his shoulder instead. 

 

“I’m gonna cum, babe- ah, mm..” Bruce kissed Jeremiah’s shoulder, his release coming on quickly. “Cum for me, baby. Cum  _ with _ me.” 

 

Jeremiah nodding unthinkingly, automatically. He closed his eyes, quickly losing himself in pleasure again. Bruce was practically pounding into him, holding him close with one arm wrapped around his middle. He stared down at his hands, which were gripping the covers of their bed still, and after a particularly rough thrust he closed them, throwing his head back as he came. “ _ Bruce!  _ Aaah,  _ yes, yes!! _ ” 

 

He felt Bruce cum more than heard it, his ears ringing with his own release as he felt Bruce cum inside of him. He heard him moan loudly next to his ear, felt him stop his movements as he finished. The ringing began to fade, and he opened his eyes. He felt some of Bruce’s weight on him, and as he regained his senses a grin crossed his face. He giggled softly, chemicals in his brain being released from the orgasm. 

 

“Stay here.” He felt Bruce shift off of him, and as much as he wanted Bruce to stay right there, to just stay with him for the rest of the night, he knew that Bruce was going to go be the responsible one. He whined softly as Bruce pulled out, feeling empty and incomplete. Bruce kissed his back again before getting up off of the bed. 

 

Jeremiah lay there for what felt like hours, but it wasn’t even a handful of minutes. He was exhausted from stress, sleepy from sex, and he could feel sleep already trying to take him over. The bed dipped and Bruce spoke. “Come on, babe.” 

 

Reluctantly, Jeremiah managed to roll himself over, bumping against Bruce in the process. He gazed up at him, the grin not leaving his face. Bruce handed him a wipe, then gestured with the washcloth he had in his other hand. Jeremiah got the hint and spread his legs again so Bruce could clean him up. He hummed softly as the warm cloth passed over his stomach, down to his entrance. It was almost like a ritual for them, Bruce cleaned them up, Jeremiah was strangely silent. 

 

Jeremiah rubbed his mouth with the wipe, attempting to clean his face free of lipstick. Bruce looked over at him, nodding after Jeremiah wiped for a few more seconds. He sat up as Bruce finished cleaning him off, and when Bruce moved to leave, Jeremiah practically lunged forward to wrap his arms around him. 

 

Bruce caught him, wrapping an arm around his middle. “I need to-”

 

“The only thing you need to do is stay right here.” Jeremiah said, his words coming out as an order as he pulled back to look at Bruce. The other man stared at him, caught off guard by the demand. 

 

“J..” Bruce trailed off, then sighed softly, a smile crossing his face. “Alright. I won’t leave you, even if it’s bad aftercare practice.” 

 

“Staying with me is  _ not _ bad aftercare.” Jeremiah insisted. He took the cloth and the wipe and dropped them off of the side of the bed, and Bruce chuckled softly. 

 

“I don’t… I mean I was going to go get you some water. For your throat.  _ That’s _ good aftercare.” 

 

“The only aftercare I need right now is your body pressed against mine.” Jeremiah replied. He pulled their covers and laid down, sliding himself under them. Bruce followed after a moment, wrapping his arm around Jeremiah and pulling him close. 

 

They lay in silence for a few minutes, Bruce playing with Jeremiah’s hair and Jeremiah running his fingers up and down Bruce’s chest. “You’re sure you don’t need that water, J..”

 

Jeremiah reached up, pressing his finger against Bruce’s lips as he smiled at him. “Shh.. I love you.” 

 

“And I love you.”

 

“Bruce.. Do you ever think about not leaving?” The question came out softly, which was odd for Jeremiah. He was the embodiment of confidence, or presence. 

 

The brunette tilted his head. “Do you want to stay?”

 

“Well, I realized that your money and bank accounts haven’t been frozen, or, at least last time we checked they weren’t.” Jeremiah explained. “I assumed that Jim hadn’t told the mainland of your actions, that he was holding out, hoping you’d come back to him. Now that he knows that you’re serious… things could change. We might not be able to disappear.” 

 

“If.. we keep the tunnel a secret.. A way back and forth.. We could easily rule over what’s left of the city and never run out of supplies..” Bruce said softly, mostly to himself. 

 

Jeremiah took Bruce’s hand into his own. “Exactly. We could worsen the situation.. Reunification would be impossible.. We could rule as  _ kings _ , Bruce.” 

 

Bruce was silent for a few seconds, before he nodded once. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow, once we’ve slept.” Jeremiah buried his face in Bruce’s chest and nodded. 

 

And so, the future kings of Gotham slept. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!! I'm a dumb and a lot of my free time in the past month HASN'T gone towards writing! Big yikes, fellas. I didn't even read through it to look for mistakes, so let me know where the really bad typos are. I just wanted to get this big boi posted and out for peeps to enjoy. The world needs more Dark Bruce.


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